Plead Forgiveness (Loyalty Series) (45 page)

When he broke the water’s surface, he glanced at the
all-too enticing female under the weeping willow tree. Disappointment crossed
her features, as if he had taken away her favorite toy. As the throbbing
between his legs lessened, he suddenly found himself elated by the desire he
saw in his bride.

His heartbeat quickened when he saw her remove her
boots and roll her breeches up to her knees. The sight of her slender legs made
him instantly hard again, thinking how they would feel wrapped around his
waist.

The thin white tunic that Eva had made for her,
combined with the sun’s helpful rays, allowed him to see the tightly fitted
chemise underneath. He had asked his sister to make clothes that Ella could
ride in, but with maddening realization, he knew he should have been more
specific.

A fortnight ago, Tavish had returned from the
Mackenzies with clothing for Ella, but it was not what Gavin had envisioned.
His idea had been for a longer tunic, one that would hide those sleek legs and
incredibly enticing bottom. Instead, Eva had sent short chemises that covered only
half of his wife’s small, perky backside. Without thought, his sister had also
fashioned silk, drawstring petticoats that were fitted and reached only mid
thigh. Gavin had thought it a jest when he rummaged through the garments, yet
after seeing five sets and then reading her note, he realized he had been
mistaken.

Dearest Gavin,

I was thrilled when Tavish arrived with your request
for new riding apparel for the remarkable woman, now your wife. Mother sent
Ella’s measurements, so they should fit well and be more comfortable than what
she owns. I used the finest material for the undergarments, all very light
weight and double stitched. The material should cause no irritation to Ella's
tender back. The cut of the undergarments was made to fit easily under her
normal riding attire, but provide some protection for her more delicate areas
as well as security to others.

I became so engrossed in my task that I also made her
some short sleeve tunics, using a new thin material that I have been
experimenting with that appears to be stronger. The new breeches I fashioned
are a combination of wool and leather, which makes it more durable for riding.

Please tell your dear wife that I am so excited to
meet her and make her a new wardrobe. There are nae words to express my
gratitude for what she had done for Gabriel, who continues to sing her praises.
Even though I have yet to meet her, she is already incased in my heart and will
have my undying love for eternity.

Give everyone my love. I look forward till the day we
can be together again.

Your Darling Sister,

Eva

Darling is not the word Gavin would use to describe
his sister, mayhap malicious or cruel. His displeasure was intensified when he
saw the delight in Ella’s eyes the day he handed her the garments.

Returning to the present, he now endured the pain of a
man who had not touched his wife since their wedding night, but been blessed
and cursed with the view of the form fitting breeches that outlined her slender
curves.

His body tensed when the profile of her body came into
view. Her flawlessly curved derriere teased while it simultaneously beckoned
him.

Noticing Gavin’s intense look, she asked, “Why are you
staring at me like that?”

“Like what? I only reciprocate yer action moments
ago,” he stated with a husky, seductive voice.

“I was nae staring at you,” Ella exclaimed as she
plopped down on a boulder and danged her feet into the water. “Well mayhap a
little, but that’s only because I have never seen a . . . a . . . naked man
before.”

“At least there is truth to that admission, and I will
make one of my own.”

With the grace of a predator stalking its prey he
moved towards her, then took her small feet into his hands, and began to rub
the arches with his thumbs.

“I stare at ye because I want ye more than I have ever
wanted a woman afore.”

His hands slid up her calves to her knees as he slowly
position his body between her legs. When his large palms covered her hips, he
said in a deep voice, “The verra sight of ye intoxicates me with the desire to
touch, taste and kiss yer delectable body. I burn to have ye in my arms, to
stoke ye as I would a fire, until yer heat equals my own. I want to be inside
ye, until ye surrender into euphoric ecstasy.”

The smoldering flame Ella saw in his eyes, coupled
with his powerfully sensual words, sent a heated shiver racing through her
body. Her personal battle of restraint was lost when she felt the warmth of his
palms cupping her face, his thumbs stroking her cheeks. His kiss was an
awakening experience that left her reeling, but clinging for more. He tilted
her head to deepen the kiss, catapulting her to a place beyond logic and
reason.

Her serenity was shattered by the hunger of his kiss.
Her willpower to rebuff his tender assault disappeared. She succumbed to the
force of his lips, savoring every moment until her fervor matched his.

Her hands were ravenous as they explored his muscular
chest and broad shoulders. She suddenly felt his hands drift down the contours
of her body to grip with possessiveness her bottom. Like a fisherman, he reeled
her in, until she his arousal was pressed to the core of her body.

Remembering the searing pain she felt the eve of their
wedding, she pushed him away with surprising strength. Quickly scrambling to
her feet, she raced over to the mare and vaulted on her back. Eager to be away,
she never looked back and did not see the dejection and overwhelming pain in
his eyes.

Gavin’s raging desire destroyed his normal control and
in his haste to claim her, he had forgotten the pain he caused their wedding
night. Seeing the wounded, fearful look cross her beautiful face instantly made
him regret his actions and prevented him from giving chase.

He cursed himself for being so impatient as he emerged
from the loch, dressed and saddled his horse. For a moment, he stared down at
the saddle she had not bothered with in her mad flight to keep her husband at a
distance. He reminded himself to send one of his men for the discarded saddle,
then at a sedate pace, set off for home.

It took an hour to return to Doran Castle.  During
that time, his thoughts focused on his wife and gaining her trust. He wanted
her to share with him the grievous sin she committed, so he could take away the
pain she had burden herself with for eight years. He also wanted her in his
bed, but only if she was willing and as eager as he.

Darkening clouds had gathered overhead when Ella
arrived back at the castle just after the noon hour. Lady Esme had greeted her,
and by the older woman’s anxious expression, she knew immediately something was
amiss.

“Ye must come quick. Rachel has gone into labor and
our midwife has sent word that she canna leave the Mackenzie holding.”

Rushing over to her mother-in-law, she grabbed her
satchel, then set off at a brisk pace for Rachel’s cottage.

“When did her labor pains begin?”

“Last eve,” Lady Esme stated, trying to keep pace with
the healer.

Halting abruptly, Ella asked, “Why wasn't I informed?”

“Rachel knew ye were in mourning. She dinna wish to
bother ye since we had already sent for the midwife.”

Ella started sprinting towards the village, her fear
so great that nothing else mattered. When she entered the tiny cottage, Helena
and Boyd were with Rachel and their faces reflected their own fear for the
woman lying on the bed, withering in pain.

Looking around the cottage, Ella noted that her
suggestions had been carried out. Clean linen and water were by the table.
Extra water was being heated in the stone fireplace and two leather straps hung
from the ceiling over Rachel.

Pulling out the small bag of herbs previously made
specifically for this occasion, she gave it to Helena and ordered, “Mix this
with steaming water, then give it to Rachel. It will lessen the pain and help
reduce infection.”

Turning to Boyd, she said, “I know you love your wife,
but for now you must leave.” Rachel’s husband dropped a kiss on his wife’s
perspiring head, then left the cottage.

“Shhh, all will be well Rachel,” Ella crooned. “You
know I have been assisting with birth for many years.” She then quickly, but
thoroughly washed her hands.

Rachel would have smiled if not for the labor pain
that engulfed her, making her body go rigid from the gripping contraction in
her abdomen.

“You must breath. Each time you feel the pain come,
focus on breathing,” she stated, then put the apron Helena had given and then
moved to the foot of the bed.

“Now, let me take a look and see how far along-” Her
words stopped when another contraction assailed the laboring woman, followed by
the outpouring of clear liquid from her womb.
Dear God, the bairn will be coming
much sooner than anticipated.

“Helena, help me move her down the bed.”

Once Rachel was in the right position, Ella examined
the position of the babe. In a voice that concealed her fear, she confirmed,
“Rachel, the babe has yet to turn. It cannot be born without help.”

Rachel replied in a small, frightened voice, “What do
ye mean, needs help?”

Over the past fortnight, Rachel had accompanied and
assisted Ella with tending to the ailments of the villagers. Although she had
taught Rachel much during this time, she neglected to inform her friend about
the problems associated with the birthing process.

“I will have to turn the babe around while he is
inside you. It will be painful, but if I don’t do this, you and the babe will
not survive.”

Helena cried out, “Dear Lord, nae!”

With her confident gaze fixed on Ella, Rachel said, “I
have complete faith in ye. Do what ye must.”

The trust Rachel had in her was astounding, and the
impact caused Ella’s eyes to flood with unshed tears. She silently vowed to see
that this courageous woman and her child survived, even if she had to move
heaven and hell to do so.

Regaining her composure, she lifted the sheet and
eased her hand inside Rachel’s womb. She was thankful her hands were so small,
allowing her to access the tight, fragile region of a woman. With practiced and
experienced fingers, she checked to make sure the cord was not around the
babe’s neck, while Rachel gritted her teeth. Her movements were slow and time
seemed to stand still as she attempted to maneuver the babe into the correct
position.

While trying to angle the head downward, Ella felt the
gush of warm blood. With every moment passing, Rachel lost more blood and soon
would not have the strength to continue laboring to bring new life into the
world.

Ella’s heart lurched when she was unable to turn the
babe without the cord curling around the neck. She removed her hand, then tried
with her non-dominant one, hoping for a different result. Tentatively, she
tried lowering the head different ways.

A cry of relief broke from her lips when blessedly the
babe’s head lowered, free from the cord. Bubbling joy shone in her eyes when
she yelled “Push, Rachel! Push hard!”

Time slowed as Rachel fought for her child’s
life.  Rewarded moments later, the top of the newborn’s head came into
view.

“I see the head! Keeping pushing, Rachel,” she
encouraged.

With the assistance of the leather straps hung over
the bed and Helena kneeling behind her, Rachel was able to pull herself into a
better position to labor. She let out a bloodcurdling scream, and then used all
her remaining strength to push the babe from her womb.

Lady Esme continued to bath her brow, while adding to
Ella’s encouraging words. “Keep pushing, sweetheart. The bairn is coming.”

“You’re doing well, Rachel. One hard push is all
that’s needed,” Ella said.

The laboring mother wailed one last time as the bairn
emerged from her body, into Ella’s waiting hands.

“You have a son, a very large son, Rachel.”

With haste, Ella cleaned out the silent infant’s
mouth, which in turn let loose a loud bellow of outrage. But, to the women
inside the cottage and the men on the other side of the timbered walls, it was
music to the ears.

Ella cut the cord, then handed the babe to Helena to
clean and swaddle. Turning back to Rachel, she delivered the after birth, and
was relieved that her friend swooned shortly thereafter. This was a blessing,
especially considering what came next.

“Lady Esme, please bring a needle and thread from my
satchel.”

“What?”

Ella knew the practice she was about to perform on
Rachel was unheard of in Scotland and England, but her Aunt Eleanor had made an
extensive study of the birthing process. The only way to save a mother whose
flesh had been severely ripped from delivering a large babe was to stitch the area
closed.

“I don’t have time to explain, you must trust me.
Please, the needle and thread.”

Using small stitches and a steady hand, she closed the
wound, periodically cleaning the area with hot water to avoid infection.
Although Rachel more than likely would become fevered, stitching the torn flesh
would reduce infection and lessen the amount of blood loss.